A Big Piece of Garbage/Transcript
['''Scene': Planet Express: Meeting Room. The staff sit around the table.]'' Farnsworth: Good news, everyone. Tomorrow you'll be making a delivery to Ebola 9, the virus planet. Hermes: Why can't they go today? Farnsworth: Because tonight's a special night and I want all of you to be alive. It's the Academy of Inventors' annual symposium. Fry: Wow! I love symposia. Farnsworth: It's the event of the scientific season. Every member presents an invention and the best one wins the Academy prize. Bender: Sounds boring. Farnsworth: Oh, my, yes. But not this year, because my latest invention is unbeatable. Behold! The death clock. places a small black box on top on the table. Simply jam your finger in the hole and this read-out tells you exactly how long you have left to live. Leela: Does it really work? Farnsworth: Well it's occasionally off by a few seconds. What with free will and all. Fry: Sounds like fun. How long do I have left to live? :puts his finger in the hole and the clock dings. Bender: Ooh! Dibs on his CD player! :Credits. Caption: Mr. Bender's Wardrobe By Robotany 500. :['''Scene': Academy of Inventors. The room is filled with scientists, all wearing white lab coats. Bender wears a top hat and talks to Farnsworth.]'' Farnsworth: Oh, my, yes. Fry: Who's the gross nerd? :points to a picture of a geek on the wall. Farnsworth: That's me at the very first symposium. I'm the Academy's oldest living member, you know. These youngsters all look up to me. :an old man. Wernstrom: Well, well, well. Look who decided to show his wrinkled face. Farnsworth: Why don't you just leave me alone, Wernstrom? Wernstrom: Face it, Farnsworth, you're over the hill. It's time to leave science to the 120-year-olds. Farnsworth: You young turks think you know everything. I was inventing things when you were barely turning senile. :laughs. Wernstrom: Go home before you embarrass yourself, old man. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a nap before the ceremonies. :leaves. Fry: Who's that jerk? Farnsworth: A hundred years ago he was my most promising student at Mars University. But then, after one fateful pop-quiz... :['''Flashback': Mars University. A younger Farnsworth hands a younger Wernstrom a piece of paper.]'' Wernstrom: A-minus? No one gives Ogden Wernstrom an A-minus! Farnsworth: I'm sorry, but penmanship counts. Wernstrom: I swear I'll have my revenge even if it takes me a hundred years. :ends. Farnsworth: And here it is: Slightly over 99 years later and still no revenge. I'm essentially in the clear. :['''Scene': Academy of Inventors Auditorium. Bender, Fry and Leela sit at a table. Bender reading the wine list and a waiter takes his order.]'' Bender: I've been perusing your fortified wine list and I've selected the '71 Hobo's Delight, the '57 Chateau Parté and the '66 Thunder Chevitz. Waiter: Exquisite choices, sir. Bender: And mix them all together in a big jug. :Lapse. The lights in the auditorium are now dimmed and Ron Popeil's head in a jar is on the stage. Popeil: Welcome to this year's Academy of Inventors Annual Symposium. I'm your host, Ron Popeil, inventor of Mr. Microphone, the spray-on toupee and, of course, the technology to keep human heads alive in jars. few people applaud. But wait, there's more. We've got a whole line-up of inventors tonight, starting with that up and coming young star, Ogden Wernstrom. :audience applauds and Wernstrom stands up and walks onto the stage. Fry "boos". Bender: shouting More wine! Wernstrom: Distinguished members of the Academy, I present to you, the Reverse Scuba Suit. Observe! waves a stick in front of a fish in a tank. Fetch! throws the stick across the platform and his fish puts on the suit, which has two little mechanical legs. The fish gets out of the tank, walks across the stage, picks up the stick and hands it to Wernstrom. Now, sit! fish doesn't do anything. I said sit! nothing. Bad fish! :hits the fish with a newspaper and it sits. The audience applauds. Farnsworth groans. Fry: Don't worry, Professor, it's no competition for your death clock. Wernstrom: And what will you be presenting this evening, grandpa? Farnsworth: Let's just say it'll put you young whippersnappers in your place! Wernstrom: I just hope it's not as lame as that death clock you presented last year. Farnsworth: Uh, last year, you say? Wernstrom: That's right. Farnsworth: Oh, my! Did it put you young whippersnappers in your place? Wernstrom: Hardly! We laughed until our teeth fell out. Come along, Cinnamon. :fish follows him. Farnsworth: Oh, dear. I'll have to invent something new in the next ten minutes. Perhaps some sort of death clock. Leela: Uh, Professor...? :Lapse. A man on the stage demonstrates a helicopter hat. He turns a handle and flies away. The audience applauds. Popeil: Our last presentation comes from our oldest member, Professor Hubert Farnsworth. Professor? :spotlight falls on Farnsworth. He scribbles something on a piece of paper. Farnsworth: Just a second, just a second. Wernstrom: Pencils down, prune-face. :snarls and runs onto the stage. Farnsworth: Uh, yes, here I am, OK, now, hello there. Now, we all know telescopes allow us to see distant objects. But what if we want to smell distant objects? Well now we can! Thanks to my new invention ... the Smellescope. :puts a piece of paper on a projector. The audience starts talking. Man: Oh, I say! Farnsworth: The odour travels past this coffee stain here, around the olive pit and into this cigar burn. And this appears to be a doodle of myself as a cowboy. audience laughs. But the Smellescope is brilliant, I tell you! Think of the astronomical odours you'll smell thanks to me. audience laughs again. Farnsworth wipes his brow with the paper. Oh, my! :puts it back on the projector. It is smudged. The audience laughs again. Wernstrom: I've waited a hundred years for this, Farnsworth. I give your invention the worst grade imaginable: An A-minus-''minus''. :audience laughs. Farnsworth walks off the stage. :Lapse. Ron Popeil is back on the stage. A trophy is beside him. Popeil: And now for the presentation of the award. Listen, folks, I'm practically giving this prize away to Dr. Wernstrom, for his fish thingy. :picks up the trophy and shakes his fish's leg. Farnsworth, outside, sighs and walks away. :['''Scene': Planet Express: Meeting Room. Fry, Bender, Leela and Farnsworth sit around the table.]'' Farnsworth: Perhaps 149 is just too old to be a scientist. Bender: Yep! Fry: No, Professor, don't give up. There were plenty of times in my century when I was gonna give up but I never did. Never! Hey, are you even listening to me? Oh, I give up! Farnsworth: By God, you're right! I'm going to build that Smellescope! :['''Scene': Planet Express: Attic Room.]'' Farnsworth: Eureka! :Leela and Bender run in. Fry: Did you build the Smellescope? Farnsworth: No, I remembered that I'd built one last year. Go ahead, try it. You'll find that every heavenly body has its own particular scent. Here, I'll point it at Jupiter. :sniffs. Fry: Smells like strawberries. Farnsworth: Exactly! And now Saturn. :sniffs. Fry: Pine needles. Oh, man, this is great! Hey, as long as you don't make me smell Uranus. :laughs. Leela: I don't get it. Farnsworth: I'm sorry, Fry, but astronomers renamed Uranus in 2620 to end that stupid joke once and for all. Fry: Oh. What's it called now? Farnsworth: Urectum. Here, let me locate it for you. :chuckles. Fry: No, no, I think I'll just smell around a bit over here! points the Smellescope around the sky and sniffs. Hmm. sniffs again. Hmm. :sniffs again and starts gagging. Farnsworth: What is it? sniffs and reacts. Oh, jeez! Oh, man! Remarkable! A stench so foul it's right off the Funk-o-Meter. I dare say Fry may have discovered the smelliest object in the known universe. Bender: Ooh! Ooh! Name it after me! :sniffs. Leela: I think it's moving. Farnsworth: Hmm. Perhaps the computer can calculate its trajectory. clicks a few buttons. My God! Whatever it is, it's headed straight for us. With enough force to reduce this entire city to a stinky crater. We have less than 72 hours. :Leela and Bender gasp. Bender: Well, let's get looting! :picks up a TV and runs out. :['''Scene': Planet Express: Meeting Room. The staff sit around the table looking at a hologram of the Earth.]'' Fry: So this thing's gonna destroy the whole city? hologram of the object hits the hologram of the Earth with a splat. What the heck is it? :taps a keyboard. Farnsworth: Ah! Just as I thought. The answer lies in this movie I found on the Internet. :plays the movie. The New York skyline of 2000 is displayed on the screen, along with the title . Narrator: in movie New York City: The year 2000. The most wasteful society in the history of the galaxy and it was running out of places to empty its never-ending output of garbage. throw black bags full of rubbish out of office windows and they are bulldozed away. The landfills were full. New Jersey was full. And so, under cover of darkness, the city put its garbage out to sea on the world's largest barge. man resembling unties a barge filled with garbage and pushes it away from the pier. The repulsive barge circled the oceans for 50 years but no country would accept it, not even that really filthy one. You know the one I mean. Finally, in 2052, the city used its mob connections to obtain a rocket and launch the garbage into outer space. Some experts claim the ball might return to Earth someday, but their concerns were dismissed as "depressing". Fry: Wow! You got that off the Internet? In my day the Internet was only used to download pornography. Farnsworth: Actually that's still true. :resumes the movie. Female Scientist: movie Now that the garbage is in space, doctor, perhaps you can help me with my sexual inhibitions. Male Scientist: movie With gusto! :both strip down to their underwear. Leela turns the lights back on. Fry groans. Farnsworth: So that's the situation. Due to the short-sightedness of Old New York, New New York is going to be destroyed by a giant ball of garbage. Leela: Fry, what the hell were you people thinking back then? How could you just throw your garbage away? Fry: Hey, gimmie a break! What do you do with it? Leela: We recycle everything. Robots are made from old beer cans. Bender: Yeah! And this beer can is made outta old robots. Leela: And that sandwich you're eating is made of old discarded sandwiches. looks inside the sandwich and cringes. Nothing just gets thrown away. Fry: The future is disgusting. Leela: Typical 20th century attitude. Fry: Hey! You have no right to criticise the 20th century. We gave the world the lightbulb, the steamboat and the cotton gin. Leela: Those things are all from the 19th century. Fry: Yeah, well, they probably just copied us. Farnsworth: Please! There's no time for this now. This is an emergency. We must warn the mayor. :['''Scene': Citihall: Mayor's Office. The Mayor, a short balding man in a green suit, sits behind his desk.]'' Poopenmeyer: Garbage ball, huh? That sounds serious. Farnsworth: Very serious, Mayor Poopenmeyer. Poopenmeyer: I gotta be sure this isn't another scientific fraud like global warming or second-hand smoke. presses the intercom. Send in my science advisor. :Wernstrom. Farnsworth: Wernstrom! Wernstrom: Well, well, well! Come to present your latest napkin, Professor? Farnsworth: No, I'm here because a giant trash ball is heading straight for us. Smell for yourself. :wipes the Smellescope. Poopenmeyer sniffs and leaps back. Poopenmeyer: Hey! Holy jeez! Wernstrom: That smell could be anything; a faulty stench coil, some cheese on the lens, who knows? :woman walks in with a cassette player. Woman: Mr. Mayor, we just got this transmission from Neptune. Man: tape Giant ... garbage ball ... gasp. ... passed close by ... horrible stench. :gags. Woman: The transmission cuts out there, sir. voice chokes again. No, I, guess it keeps going. :is another gag and the message cuts out. Woman: There we go. Poopenmeyer: My God! The senile old man is right. Wernstrom: Do you mean him or me? Poopenmeyer: Him! :points at Farnsworth. Wernstrom grumbles. :['''Scene': New New York City Street. People crowd around a shop watching TV's through the window. On the TV, two newscasters present a report on "Root"2 News. One is a blonde human woman wearing a pink suit and the other is an alien that looks like one from This Island Earth. He has a huge green head with veins poking out of it and big eyes.]'' Linda: TV Next, New New York in crisis. Morbo? Morbo: TV Thanks, human female. Puny Earthlings were shocked today to learn that a ball of garbage will destroy their pathetic city of New New York. Linda: TV Makes me glad we live here in Los Angeles. Morbo: TV Morbo agrees! :both laugh. :['''Scene': Citihall: Mayor's Office. A large hologram of the garbage ball is projected in the middle of the room. A military man is there with the others.]'' Leela: Can't we just shoot a missile at it? Military Man: We've simulated that on a supercomputer but the ball is just too damn gooey. A missile would go right through it. :hologram shows a missile squelching through the garbage ball. Farnsworth: But suppose we send a crew to plant an explosive precisely on the fault line between this mass of coffee grounds and this deposit of America Online floppy disks. :simulation explodes. Military Man: In theory, it could work. Wernstrom: Uh, in theory, perhaps. But you'll never find a crew willing to take on a mission so suicidally dangerous. :smiles and looks at his crew. Bender: Oh, crap! :['''Scene': Planet Express: Hangar. The crew are assembled in front of the ship.]'' Farnsworth: Now, you'll only have one chance to destroy the ball. After that, it will be so close to Earth that blowing it up would cause garbage to rain over the entire planet, killing billions. Bender: ironic Oh, boo-hoo! Farnsworth: Now here's the bomb I've prepared. Once you activate it, you'll have 25 minutes to get away. Leela: That's all? But-- Farnsworth: Now, now, there'll be plenty of time to discuss your objections when and if you return. :crew suit up in red spacesuits and walk towards the ship. Fry and Leela carry their helmets under their arms and Bender carries his head under his. :['''Scene': The ship clears the atmosphere and flies towards the garbage ball. It looks like the asteroid from Armageddon.]'' :['''Scene': Ships Cockpit.]'' Leela: Odour at magnitude 8. ship shakes. Magnitude 12. ship shakes. Magnitude 31. ship shakes. We're breaking up. Turn on the anti-smell device. :sound of an air freshener goes off and the ship stops shaking. Fry: Hmm, sporty! :['''Scene': Garbage Ball Surface. The ship cruises in and lands. The steps go down, the door opens and the crew look around.]'' Fry: Wow! Leela: Look at all this filth. Fry: It's not filth. It's a glorious monument to the achievements of the 20th century. picks up something. Look! A real Beanie Baby. picks up something else. Oh! A Mr. Spock collector's plate! sees something and gasps. Some Bart Simpson dolls! :runs over to a pile of them. Bender picks one up and pulls the string. Doll: Eat my shorts! Bender: OK eats the shorts. la Homer Simpson Mmm! Shorts! Leela: Fry, this stuff was garbage when it was new. Let's blow it up already! Fry: This junk isn't garbage! I can dig in any random pile and find something great. :digs in a pile and comes out with a six pack holder around his neck, like a seagull. Leela cuts him free. Fry: gasping Alright, let's get to work. :Lapse. The crew walk across the surface, reading a map. Leela: Let's see. If that's Hypodermic Ridge then the bomb must go right here. puts the bomb in the ground. Get ready to run. We've got 25 minutes. presses the button and the timer changes to 15:00. Uh, 15 minutes. timer changes again to 05:00. 5 minutes. timer changes again to a very odd number. "6h" minutes? :pulls the bomb out of the ground and turns it over. Bender: There's your problem. The Professor put the counter on upside-down. Leela: That idiot! It wasn't set for 25 minutes, it was set for 52 seconds. :screams. Fry: We're gonna die! (calmly) Right? Bender: Right! :screams again. :Lapse. The timer is at 19 seconds. Bender screams. Bender: It's gonna blow! :throws it to Fry. Fry throws it back. Bender throws it at Leela and it hits her helmet. Leela: Hey, watch it! You'll put somebody's eye out! Bender: OK, OK, keep your space pants on. I'll take care of this. :throws the bomb into space but it hits a passing comet and bounces back into his hands. He throws it up again and it explodes. The crew sigh with relief. Fry: We're saved! Leela: Yeah, but this garbage ball's unstoppable now. New New York is done for. :watch as the garbage ball moves closer to Earth. Bender scratches his butt. :['''Scene': Outside Planet Express. A crowd of people stand on the street with a banner saying "Welcome Home Heroes" with "Heroes" crossed out and replaced with "Losers".]'' :['''Scene': Citihall: Mayor's Office.]'' Linda: TV All in all, this is one day Mittens the kitten won't soon forget! :and Linda chuckle. Morbo: TV Kittens give Morbo gas. In lighter news, the city of New New York is doomed. Blame rests with known human Professor Hubert Farnsworth and his tiny, inferior brain. Farnsworth: Oh, how could I have put that bomb timer on upside-down? I could swear I followed the manual precisely. pulls out the manual from his coat. It is upside-down. I'm a dried up husk of a scientist. This is all my fault. Fry: No, it's my fault too. I'm sure I threw out more than my share of that trash up there. Also, one month my toilet broke and it just went straight in the garbage can. cringes. Leela was right. The people of the 20th century were idiotic slobs. Especially me. Poopenmeyer: Enough! You all failed miserably. It's time to put a real scientist in charge. :Wernstrom. Farnsworth: Wernstrom! Wernstrom: The very same. Poopenmeyer: Dr. Wernstrom, can you save my city? Wernstrom: Of course. But it'll cost you. First I'll need tenure. Poopenmeyer: Done. Wernstrom: And a big research grant. Poopenmeyer: You got it. Wernstrom: Also, access to a lab and five graduate students, at least three of them Chinese. Poopenmeyer: Um, alright done. What's your plan? Wernstrom: What plan? I'm set for life! Au revoir, suckers! :walks out. Leela: That rat! Do something! Poopenmeyer: I wish I could but he's got tenure! :['''Scene': New New York City Street. People stop and stare into the sky as a hamburger and other pieces of garbage smash through buildings. A fish skeleton falls in front of Zoidberg. He checks to see no one is looking and eats it.]'' :['''Cut to': Citihall: Mayor's Office. A pizza slice splats against the window.]'' Poopenmeyer: It's time to take action. presses the intercom. Stephanie, cancel the maid for today. Have her come tomorrow. leans back into his chair. Well, I'm out of ideas. Anyone? Farnsworth: Wait! If we could build an object the exact size, density and consistency of the garbage ball, it might just knock the ball away without smashing it to bits. Leela: But where can we find a substance the exact density and consistency as garbage? Farnsworth: Alas, I don't know. Fry: Uh, what about garbage? Farnsworth: Good Lord! A second ball of garbage! That just might work! Poopenmeyer: But garbage isn't something you just find lying in the streets of Manhattan. This city's been garbage-free for 500 years! Fry: Then it's time to make some more. Poopenmeyer: Make garbage? But how? Fry: Stand back and watch the master! This Slurm can. knocks it on the floor. Now it's garbage. These papers. sweeps them off the desk with his hands. Garbage. This picture of your wife. drops it on the floor and the frame smashes. Pure garbage. Now you try it. :picks up a pencil and drops it on the floor. Poopenmeyer: By God, I think the boy's got something. Come on, everyone! The fate of the city is at stake! :turns a chair on its side. Fry: Good! turns to Leela. Don't finish that cruller, throw it away throws it on the floor. Bender. Drink that beer and drop the bottle on the ground. throws the bottle on the floor. Very nice. Poopenmeyer: Get that robot some more beer! smiles. We've trashed this room but that's just the start. We've got to get Fry's message to the people. :['''Scene': Woman's Kitchen. Fry is on TV.]'' Fry: TV People of New New York, take a lesson from the 20th century. Stop all this pain-in-the-ass recycling and throw your garbage on the floor. :woman scrapes her food onto the floor. :['''Scene': Man's Living Room.]'' Fry: TV Go ahead. Just chuck it any old place like I used to. Your city is counting on you. :man empties the contents of his cat's litter tray out of the window. :['''Scene': Printing Press. The newspapers are printed with the headline "City Urged To Litter!" and the conveyor belt dumps them outside the building.]'' :['''Cut to': Outside Printing Press. They land in a heap and are bulldozed away.]'' :['''Scene': Launch Pad. The new garbage ball has been stuck on top of a rocket.]'' Farnsworth: If my calculations are correct, this garbage ball will knock the other garbage ball directly into the sun. Wernstrom: And if my calculations are correct, we're all going to die horribly. :laughs then realises what he's said. Poopenmeyer: Alright, places everyone. Prepare for launch. :counts down. Farnsworth: Five, four, three, two, three, four, five, six... Leela: whispering Just fire the damn thing. :tries to push the button but misses it. Fry: Oops! :pushes it again. The rocket takes off and heads towards the other garbage ball. Fry's heart beats. Farnsworth's heart beats, but a lot slower than Fry's. Bender's "heart" beats like a drum. :['''Scene': In space, the new garbage ball hits the old one and knocks it away from the Earth. It slingshots around several planets and flies into the sun]'' :['''Scene': Launch Pad. Farnsworth sniffs through the Smellescope.]'' Farnsworth: Burning garbage! Fry: It worked! :except Wernstrom cheers. :['''Scene': Outside Citihall. The Mayor and the Planet Express crew stand on the steps. Poopenmeyer makes a speech.]'' Poopenmeyer: And so, on behalf of the entire city, I thank you, Professor Farnsworth. I now present you with the Academy prize, which we confiscated from Dr. Wernstrom after it became apparent that he was a jackass. :hands Farnsworth the trophy. Farnsworth: Yes! In your face, Wernstrom! Wernstrom: I'll get you, Farnsworth. Even if it takes me another hundred years. :and his five graduate students, three of them Chinese, shake their fists. Poopenmeyer: And, Fry, we owe you a tremendous debt as well. If not for your 20th century garbage-making skills, we'd all be buried under 20th century garbage. :crowd cheers. Leela: Should we really be celebrating? I mean, what if the second garbage ball returns to Earth like the first one did? Fry: Who cares? That won't be for hundreds of years. Farnsworth: Exactly! It's none of our concern. Fry: That's the 20th century spirit! :and Farnsworth hold the award up and the crowd cheers and applauds. :Credits. from the film plays over them. Category:Season One Scripts Category:Episode Transcripts Category:Transcripts